Picking Up the Pieces
by Dreams of Disaster
Summary: Harry James Potter is the first to resist the young Dark Lord's charm in a long time. Intrigued by Harry's incredible selflessness, bravery, cunning, and beauty, Tom Marvolo Riddle is caught up in a web of political deception, lies, and hidden truths that reveal Harry's darkest secrets, as well as his very own.


A/N: Please Read and Review! *makes puppy-dog face that no one can resist*

Disclaimer: I don't own J.K. Rowling or the Harry Potter Universe/Characters (unfortunately!).

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**Flashback**

_Tom Marvolo Riddle regarded Hogwarts Castle with no little awe. The beauty of the towering turrets, dark stone walls, and luminescent windows could not be ignored, especially at night. The castle seemed to glow magnificently.  
_

_"Don't you think it's amazing?" someone asked breathlessly next to him. Tom turned sharply, ready to berate the child for interrupting his reverie, but was momentarily shocked when he found himself staring into the greenest eyes he had ever seen. The boy next to him was much shorter than he was, and had very untidy hair - a contrast to Tom's smooth, dark waves.  
_

_"I'm Harry, by the way," the boy said impatiently, blushing at Tom's continued scrutiny. "I didn't catch your name," he added dryly._

_"My name is Tom," Tom replied, still examining Harry as though he was a lab specimen. "Tom Marvolo Riddle."_

_"Interesting name, Tom," Harry commented, unsmiling. "If you'd excuse me," he continued, brushing past and walking away quickly, "I will see you later."  
_

_And Tom was left in the dust, standing and gaping slightly. How had his charm been so easily thwarted? Harry was supposed to crave his attention, to want his entire world to revolve around Tom and Tom only. Harry had just left, unconcerned...  
_

_Tom would not be so easily denied. He glared fiercely at the garrulous redhead who seemed to be eagerly chatting with **his** Harry, and swore silently that he would win the loyalty of the emerald-eyed boy even if it was the last thing he did._

**End Flashback**

_Five Years Later...  
_

Tom straightened out his Hogwarts robes and hefted his trunk into the train's hold with little difficulty. He smirked to himself as he fingered his Prefect badge confidently, just to make sure it was really there. Of course, he thought arrogantly, there was near nil doubt of him not becoming Prefect, but he would have thought Dumbledore (insert mental sneer here) had objected Tom's nomination to be Slytherin's fifth year Prefect. It seemed as though either Professor Slughorn had pushed Tom's appointment or Dumbledore had simply given up on pinning Tom's name to every terrible thing that took place at Hogwarts.

"Tom!" a male voice yelled from far away, and Tom turned to snap at the intruder before realizing that it was Abraxas Malfoy, one of his loyal 'allies' in Slytherin House. "My Lord," Abraxas respectfully whispered as he approached. "I hope you have had a profitable summer break."

Tom scowled heavily, and Abraxas wilted slightly under the demanding gaze. "_I _hope I wasn't interrupted by you for small talk, Abraxas. My time has value, unlike yours." Abraxas seemed rebellious for a moment before bending reluctantly and asking, "Is it truly necessary to conduct the yearly reconnaissance of the Express?"

"What do you usually do, Malfoy?" Tom snarked, his lip curling upward derisively. "I made my instructions clear the last time we met; do not mean to tell me that you have conveniently forgotten your duties," he ended menacingly.

Malfoy was visibly cowed by the infamous threat of his Lord's Cruciatus Curse. He nodded frantically, and nearly ran - as much as Malfoys can run - to the Hogwarts Express boarding terminal without managing to lose his dignity.

_Pity, _Tom sneered, staring after the fleeing Malfoy, who was no doubt about to tell Lestrange, Black, Prince, Rosier, and Dolohov that Tom was not in a good mood. Abraxas Malfoy had been one of the first to criticize him and attempt to disprove Tom's initial claims of being the Heir of Slytherin. While Tom enjoyed spunk and bravado once in a while (it was fun breaking the courageous and skeptical to Tom's will), Malfoy was flighty and unpredictable. He could easily stab Tom in the back or betray his secrets to the enemy. But at the same time, he was Tom's most loyal servant. Tom supposed Abraxas gave his all to whatever side he supported at a specific moment. He could be a great asset or a notorious traitor.

Tom jerked himself out of his meandering thoughts as the Hogwarts Express emitted a loud, shrill whistle. There were ten minutes left until it exited the station.

Slowly, Tom wandered near the door, about to step inside, before a loud gasp and a crash drew his attention. Drawing his wand swiftly, he pointed it blindly at the figure that had just emerged into Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

"Geez, dude, point that wand somewhere else, will you?" the newly-arrived Harry Potter snapped in annoyance. "My stuff just fell over and I don't want to have to worry about someone cursing me in the meantime. I've got no desire to be admitted to Madame Pomfrey's dubious care on the first day of fifth year."

Tom blinked and watched Harry blankly for a couple of seconds as his brilliant mind rapidly processed the information given. Harry, meanwhile, struggled to lift the cage of a large snowy owl that was hooting anxiously and shooting irritated glances at Tom.

Satisfied with how events were turning out, Tom smoothed down his robes again before striding over to Harry in three graceful steps.

"Let me help you with that," he interjected smoothly, quickly picking up the cage as though it weighed nothing and carrying it over to the hold. Harry followed awkwardly with the rest of his luggage, at a loss of what to do.

Tom spun around in a flourish once he was done loading Harry's things. He noticed absently that Harry's eyes were greener and freer than they had ever been and that the smaller boy had hardly grown since first year. His innocent features were still padded with baby fat, and he looked absolutely _corruptible_.

Tom leaned down quickly, not giving Harry a chance to back out and slip away, and kissed Harry's outstretched hand, ignoring the shocked looks the movement elicited. For a moment, Harry stood absolutely still and silent, a fiery blush spreading across his cheekbones. Tom mentally admired the sight.

Then, a cold rage seemed to overtake the embarrassment and surprise in Harry's eyes, and he whipped out his own wand (holly and phoenix feather, Tom thought detachedly), rapidly casting, "___Furnunculus_!".

Tom didn't stand a chance. The Pimple Jinx flew into his solar plexus at point blank range, immediately blasting him into the stone wall behind him. Stars exploded before his eyes and blackness tinged the edges of his vision. Then, as though this pain were not enough, a sharp agony began under his skin, in every part of his body. Boils erupted all over his face, arms, and legs. Tom would have moaned, if he were a lesser man.

Harry, standing about five feet away from him, seemed only slightly regretful, but this regret seemed to dissipate as he eyed Tom's sprawled figure with some satisfaction. "You brought this upon yourself, Riddle," he stated firmly, before boarding the Hogwarts Express and vanishing into the darkened corridors beyond.

The train whistled again - a two minute warning. Tom stood up slowly, taking stock of his injuries, and reversing the curse that Harry had cast on him. He smiled grimly. He had underestimated Harry Potter, and had paid the price.

Then, Tom noted a jagged cut on his forehead that had not been there before. Had it been another curse? He frowned and tried to reverse it, but nothing worked. He growled angrily. He couldn't show up in front of his servants looking like a ragamuffin in a street fight.

The train whistled one last time and began chugging forward. Tom let out a startled yell before sprinting after the accelerating vehicle. He eventually reached the train, but not without a price. His robes were almost completely torn, his hair was unfashionably tousled, and thin cuts littered his hands from friction burns.

_What a wonderful way to start the year, _he grumbled darkly, as lo and behold, Abraxas exited a compartment and started "My Lord...," before gaping in a very un-Malfoyish fashion. The news that someone had beaten Tom Riddle - Hogwarts's star student - up subsequently traveled all over the train before it even reached Hogwarts.

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Well, hope you like it! Constructive criticism and comments are welcome! Please Read and Review!

~Dreams of Disaster


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